Dark Desires

Chapter 9

"Where in Merlin's beard are we?" Came the astonished voice of Bellatrix to her left. They stood on the side of a dusty road, looking into a driveway flanked by tall hedges. The air around them was hot and dry. Apart from the entrance into what Hermione already knew was a hotel, the area was deserted. 

"Not in Merlin's beard, but in Italy actually", Hermione replied distractedly before making her way through the gates and into the courtyard which doubled as a car park, leaving the older witch no choice but to follow. Walking through those gates again, awakened a childlike sensation inside Hermione. She had been here a year ago with her parents, and now all the nostalgia came flowing over her as soon as she saw the faint, yellow walls of the hotel. The feeling of nostalgia was soon replaced with a morose state of mind, however, when she came to think of her parents who, in this exact moment, knew nothing about their daughters whereabouts (or even her state of existence).

"Is this some kind of a cruel joke? A bookworm like you should know that apparition across such a distance is near impossible, even for talented witches", Bellatrix had stopped walking and now stood with her arms crossed, a doubtful look on her face. Hermione ignored her and kept walking, not wanting to disrupt the memory of her family. "I refuse to believe this. But until you tell me the truth, how on earth am I to survive this weather?" Bellatrix caught up to Hermione in a couple of long strides, and now walked haughtily up the side of the villa.

"Don't worry, I brought clothes. Although, I doubt you'll want to wear them..." Hermione smiled thinking about Bellatrix wearing a light pink blouse and yellow shorts. This colour scheme seemed so ridiculous in comparison to the older witch's usual attire of black (and occasionally dark green if she felt a bit on the wild side) that Hermione had to chuckle. Bellatrix ignored her and rounded the corner to the entrance. 

When they arrived at the front side of the hotel, a beautiful sight graced Hermione's eyes. The large, but slightly forlorn garden stretched out in front of them. A tall statue of what seemed to be a griffin was placed in the middle, on the gravel. Back in the golden ages of this hotel, when it had been the luxurious home of a wealthy Italian family, the griffin had spewed water into the small pool at its feet. Now, the fountain had dried out and it seemed as though a battle had been fought between the griffin and some vines growing nearby, of which the vines had won.

The place was just like Hermione remembered. Once again she experienced the astonishing feeling that hit her the first time she laid eyes on the villa. It was a large, yellow building, ancient and Georgian in style. Out of all the places she adored in this world, this had to be the one with her fondest memories.

"Well, would you look at that, a decaying shack. How wonderful." The raven haired witch was obviously not overjoyed. She walked closer to the building and examined a crumbling, porcelain nameplate that clung to the wall. "Hotel Villa Amoretto? Don't tell me this place is supposed to be romantic..."

"It doesn't signify romance. It is the name of the family who owned it in the 18th century. It is actually a very interesting story; I can tell it to you one day, if you'd like", remarked Hermione, walking inside to avoid hearing the hah! that inevitably followed her proposal.

"Hah!" snorted Bellatrix, but followed still into the lobby. A middle aged woman with olive skin greeted them in Italian from behind the desk. There was something about her features that Bellatrix couldn't quite put her finger on, but that something was flattering, and the woman somehow seemed to be unrestrained in her state of being. It was almost... attracting. Bellatrix brushed off the odd feeling and focused her gaze on Hermione instead, who was already ordering their rooms.

"I'm sorry, we only have one room left for two. We are doing some work of, how do you say it... ricostruzione." The woman smiled apologetically and Hermione's cheeks turned pink under the insinuation that she would have to sleep in the same bed as the death eater. It was a pleasant thought, but Hermione would rather die at the hands of the raven haired witch than admit that she was attracted to her. Luckily, the moment of embarrassment was interrupted by an infuriated Bellatrix who nearly jumped on the poor woman. 

"How dare you put me in the same room as that mudblood? I don't care if you're reconstructing the entire planet, I shall have my own room!" Acting on instinct, Hermione grasped her wrist and dragged her down beside her once again. At this, Bellatrix snapped her arm back and glared at the young witch with daggers in her eyes.

"We'll take the one room, thank you", Hermione apologized, grabbed the key from the desk and hurried up the nearest staircase with a frightened look dancing across her features. She heard the angry steps of Bellatrix following behind her. 

                                                                                          }•••{

The sun was setting outside their window, but Bellatrix had already fallen asleep a long time ago. Hermione lay curled up on a mattress on the floor, her whole body aching after the battle at Hogwarts; it seemed like forever ago, although it happened the very same day. She hadn't even had the power to protest when Bellatrix greedily, in a true pureblood manner, claimed the double bed for herself. Instead, she asked Mariela, the hotel owner, if she could borrow another mattress and made a cozy little nook on the floor for herself.

Bellatrix hadn't uttered another word that evening, she just kicked off her shoes and curled herself into the duvet, flinging her corset onto the floor and within minutes a soft snoring could be heard throughout the room.

Hermione, however, had trouble falling asleep. Every time she closed her eyes, a feeling of hopelessness settled over her, weighing down on her chest as though someone was sitting on top of her. It was the thoughts of the betrayal against her friends that haunted her. Images of Ron's puppy face, Harry's green eyes and Ginny's golden locks slithered their way into her mind, and it seemed as though the young witch would never find peace...